


code geass: jpn idol project

by pamyurin



Category: Code Geass
Genre: I dont know what im doing!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-07 01:21:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15898023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamyurin/pseuds/pamyurin
Summary: lelouch, suzaku, kallen, and c.c. are in an idol group, with milly as their manager. what sort of hijinks will they get up to?





	1. the unfortunate news

Lelouch knew the look on Milly’s face all too well. It was the look that said, _I’m about to make you all do something incredibly stupid._ It had already been a tiring practice, and Lelouch was red-faced as Suzaku passed him his water bottle with a grin. The last thing he needed was for Milly to burst in and tell them about some ridiculous appearance on some TV show, or a fan club meet-and-greet, or anything of the sort. 

“You did really great today, Lelouch!” Suzaku said, patting him on the shoulder. He was oblivious to Milly, though whether it was a willful oblivion or not was a mystery to Lelouch. “Remember when we just started, and you could barely get through the moves, even the really easy ones?” 

“We had to do all the complicated moves, and Lelouch had to be an immobile center, like a delicate flower,” Kallen joined in. She’d stripped out of her tank top and was now wearing only her sports bra, the sweat visible on her skin. C.C. once commented on how she always looked so shiny after practices, and Kallen had mumbled something about how people who are very physically fit have lower sweat thresholds. Which was why Lelouch only gained a light sparkle at the end of practices, while Kallen was drenched in a thorough sheen. 

“It doesn’t matter if I dance or not,” Lelouch clipped, “I’m the one that draws in all the fans, anyway.” 

“Okay!” they heard Milly shout, as she went up to them, clapping her hands together. “Great work today! Tomorrow, we’ll be going on the game show, ‘School Idol Festival,’ so try to rest up tonight, and we’ll be up bright and early in the morning!” Their manager clapped her hands again, and then wiggled her fingers, a telltale sign that she was about to cast one of her ‘spells.’ “And most importantly, remember to _relax_!” 

“Thanks, Milly,” Suzaku said, sounding earnest as ever. Kallen agreed, while Lelouch gave Milly a look—only earning him a grin in return, of course.  
C.C. seemed not to have been listening at all, and the minute Milly was done talking, C.C. pulled her aside, probably to ask if there could be a pizza party tonight in celebration. She was always playing the angle of pizza upping her motivation, and no matter how much she ate, she never gained any weight. The rest of them couldn’t touch the stuff. By the way Milly was shaking her head and waving her personal assistant, a little blue-haired boy who seemed to never take his eyes off her, over, it seemed C.C.’s plot wasn’t working out. 

Lelouch slung his bag over his shoulder after he finished his water, and made to head out the doorway. Kallen fell into step beside him.

“Are you doing anything special today, Lelouch?” she asked. 

“Not particularly,” he said. “Probably just going to eat and rest up.” He was also working on a novel right about now—he tended not to be a big fan of the post-Romantic era, but Pride and Prejudice was coming along, and besides, it was a classic, and one he felt he needed to read just to be informed of the literary canon at large. It wasn’t like he could just go about ignoring Austen or the Bronte sisters—

“Ah, let’s eat together then!” she insisted. Lelouch sighed. While he had no issue with his group members, there was a part of him that enjoyed the time alone. Even if he wanted to curl up in bed with his books, C.C. or Suzaku or, as it was today, even Kallen, would always find a reason to drag him away. 

“We’ll eat with the others,” he agreed. By C.C.’s subdued expression it seemed her request was denied. She gathered her things and made to trail behind them. Suzaku had been digging through his bag for his phone, and finally followed C.C., phone open in his hands as he seemed to be typing out a paragraph of a message. 

Something about it irked Lelouch, to see Suzaku so deeply engrossed in something not immediately relevant or ascertainable, but he couldn’t exactly place why. Not wanting to let his gaze linger too long, he shook his head. They reached the doors and climbed into the van, C.C. and Lelouch up front and Kallen and Suzaku in back. Almost immediately, Kallen popped in her headphones and made to stare out the window. Suzaku was still tap-tapping away on his phone.

“Texting your number one fan again, hm?” C.C. smirked, and didn’t even bother to turn around and confirm it. The blush that Lelouch caught sight of in the rearview mirror indicated C.C. had hit it on the nose. Suzaku finished up his message and then stuck his phone back into his pocket.

“Something like that,” Suzaku said. Lelouch reached into his bag for his book and folded it into his lap. Suzaku certainly texted Euphemia, the co-leader of their fan club, more than Lelouch felt was reasonable. If there was ever a meet-up, it was usually Suzaku who brought it up to Milly, and not the other way around. Being so close with fans made Lelouch uneasy, but Suzaku and the rosy-cheeked woman seemed to get along better every time they were together. As for him, the other co-leader of the fan club seemed to have a soft spot for him, and Lelouch would not be caught dead exchanging information with Shirley. As far as he was concerned, his job only included entertaining her in the professional sense. He did not want to perpetuate the delusions that would crop up were he to fraternize with a fan in a less than professional way. 

Yet again, Lelouch was unsure if Suzaku’s obliviousness was purposeful or not.

///

They circled up around the kotatsu for their small dinner, mostly consisting of watery veggies and a small slice of grilled chicken. No bread, no cheese: that was strictly not allowed for an idol’s diet. It was beginning to get colder outside, so at least the food felt seasonal, but Suzaku wouldn’t have minded it exactly if there had been barbecue or—well, really anything other than salads. He felt his foot graze someone’s under the table, and looked around to see who it was, and only figured it had been Lelouch when the other boy gave him an annoyed glance over his bowl. Kallen had her own phone out now, and was playing some sort of game that had to do with a lot of tapping and endurance—one she couldn’t look up from, apparently. C.C. put her chin in her hands and rested her elbows on the table, eating her salad one leaf at a time.

“I would’ve taken something else, like noodles,” she said. Suzaku wondered if eating in the same portion sizes and fashion as a rabbit made the meal more bearable for her. “It didn’t _have_ to be pizza.”

“Well, now we’ve got this instead,” Lelouch snapped. “It’s better for you than that garbage, anyway.”

“Marginally,” C.C. said. 

Suzaku nodded sympathetically. “I’m not sure how much nutrition cucumbers and leaf lettuce really hold either,” he agreed. 

Something Suzaku often wondered was why C.C. never went by anything other than her stage name. When Suzaku compared them with other idol groups—which he did, more often than he’d like to admit—he always noticed the members refer to each other by their real names, if they had a stage name, when on variety shows or reality TV. But even Lelouch, who had apparently known C.C. his whole life, still called her by her stage name. It was such that Kallen and Suzaku did, too, and he wondered if anyone even knew her real name, including Lelouch. With C.C., it was hard to tell where the line between her public and private persona was drawn. She always seemed to be this same, somewhat cold, sloppy person, with a knack for quick jabs, said in a soft voice. Lelouch, on the other hand, lit up like he was controlled by an off and on button. In public, he was all smiles, shaking hands and accepting flowers with a grace that never truly left him. At home, however, he grew colder than C.C., and sometimes Suzaku wondered if it was the weather or simply being in Lelouch’s presence that made him catch a chill. He knew this Lelouch better—the somewhat grumpy, haughty one—than the one the fans saw. He had known Lelouch for some time too, anyway, as their fathers had been close. 

Lelouch came from a highly publicized British family that resided for half the year in Japan, which is where the two fathers had met, vacationing in the same spot in Kyoto. When they returned year after year, Lelouch grew less malevolent and more withdrawn, while Suzaku grew to be less of an adversary and more an ally to him against their similar fathers, who liked complete control, and couldn’t stand it when the two boys disappeared together for hours on end. It was a shock when Lelouch expressed any interest at all in becoming an idol, but in a way it seemed almost against his will. He often took calls from his father alone in the bathroom, where he must’ve stuffed towels under the crack at the bottom of the door, because when Kallen and Suzaku stood outside the door trying to get a good listen, it was incredibly muffled. 

When Lelouch auditioned to become an idol, Suzaku had done it too, just to spite him, and by some stroke of either luck or misfortune, they had ended up being put in the same group. Lelouch’s family must’ve pulled some sort of strings, because sure enough C.C. was there too, seemingly bored and put-off by the whole thing.

Suzaku wouldn’t have had it differently, though. He loved his group, and he also liked making Lelouch squirm. There was quite a bit of fan service that they put on for show, and a lot of earnest teasing, like the time someone had caught a fancam of C.C. pinching Lelouch’s butt between songs. There were groups of their fans that thought each of them had been dating at some point or another. The majority were fans of Kallen and Lelouch, mostly because Kallen’s face turned such a bright shade of scarlet whenever Lelouch got near to her that it seemed like she couldn’t _not_ be crushing on him. She did that in private, too, though, so there was a chance it was in earnest. Lelouch remained politely disinterested. There were also facets of C.C./Lelouch shippers, who believed her teasing meant signs of a relationship, and of course, the ever popular C.C./Kallen and Suzaku/Lelouch shippers. These were Suzaku’s favorites, because they were simply so easy to tease. Let him put his hand on Lelouch’s thigh for an interview, and the interview would circulate ten times faster. If he leaned in close and whispered something—however mundane—to Lelouch between performances, the views skyrocketed. And of course there was also Lelouch’s flustered reaction spurring him on, where he would gasp and scoot away, or stiffen up and sit uncomfortably for the remainder of the interview. 

“I don’t know why you do these things, bait them like that,” he berated Suzaku, but he often lacked the malice to carry on with the farce. “You’re such an idiot.” 

“You don’t like it?” Suzaku would say bashfully. Lelouch huffed and turned away.

///

The truth was—rather, the problem was—that Lelouch figured he did like it, at least a little bit. He got an uncomfortable flip in his belly when Suzaku would touch him, and he could feel the heat from him when he leaned in close—but those things were private, things he could never admit, and things that definitely weren’t supposed to be on display for—for nothing other than worthless _fan service!_ In his opinion, the whole idea of it was disgusting, a ploy to get more views. That didn’t stop C.C. from pinching his cheeks on television or patting his hair when they went for interviews. She even had the audacity to lie across his lap when they did a live video once, for online viewers, and it had proceeded to be screenshotted and spread around the Internet like nothing else, an eternal flame for C.C./Lelouch fans. 

It was a reason he absolutely dreaded variety shows like the one in store for him today. He was awoken by C.C. in the wee hours, as she had managed to turn the shower all the way up and was humming one of their songs while inside, her voice echoing off the walls. When he tried to go back to sleep, Suzaku was next in line, and he managed to drop all the contents of their shampoo caddy onto the shower floor with a clatter. He hated the two of them for being early risers, and hated Milly for establishing his bedroom as the one directly next to the bathroom. Kallen slept on in the back corner of the apartment, undisturbed until well past ten a.m., when it was officially time to get up to prepare for the filming.

She noted Lelouch’s under-eye bags and tilted her head in sympathy. “Couldn’t sleep?” she asked. 

Lelouch would not say that when he had heard Suzaku mutter an, oops! At the crash of the shampoo, he had then proceeded to picture his band mate naked in the shower for the remainder of the morning. 

“Yep,” he said, defeated.


	2. the interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lelouch really can't stand television appearances.

The man who would be interviewing them and conducting the games was a man named Diethard Ried, famous for his interviews being either notoriously steamy, or revealing some sort of scandal that seemed to materialize out of thin air as soon as a group was in his studio. Milly no doubt did this to try and catch them off guard. His questions were either scathing or sexy, no in-between. As Lelouch sat in hair and makeup, he went through possible questions and answers he could be asked, working through the many solutions in his mind. C.C. almost fell asleep in her chair, and was protected from falling out of it only by her gigantic Cheese-kun plush. Kallen flirted with Gino, the artist working on her face. Suzaku seemed more stern than usual, not speaking with the artist as he usually did. Several times, he checked his phone and began to type, only to turn it off and lay it back in his lap before sending anything. 

Lelouch required a fair amount less makeup than the other members, as he possessed delicate features naturally, and besides, men wore less makeup on stage than women, anyway. He scooted down from his chair and drifted over to stand next to Suzaku. At least, he thought it was a casual drift, but he had rather marched over in such a way that Suzaku knew he had something to say. 

Instead of some speech or remark about the interview, Lelouch looked over at him curiously, eyeing his black phone screen in his lap.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Suzaku seemed to be in some sort of reverie ever since their practice the previous day, acting clumsy when usually he possessed great control over his body, and now, instead of focusing in on the interview to come, appearing distant and confused. It was worrying. Suzaku couldn’t be slipping up when it came time for questions, especially not in front of Diethard Ried. 

“Huh?” Suzaku asked, looking up. The makeup artist furrowed her brow impatiently and grabbed his cheek to direct his face downward again. He blushed and muttered an apology. It seemed to have erased Lelouch’s question from his mind. 

Lelouch cleared his throat impatiently. “Well?”

“Oh!” Suzaku stuffed his phone into his pocket and the makeup artist frowned at him before puffing powder onto his face and waving her arms as she walked away. She found Lelouch’s artist some distance away and motioned over at Suzaku exasperatedly. Lelouch could only imagine what she was saying. 

Suzaku didn’t seem to notice. “Yes,” he answered, a bit too brashly. “I’m fine.” 

Lelouch stared at him. “We’re a group, Suzaku,” he said. His voice was surprisingly soft, all of a sudden. “You can’t be bottling up your emotions—you’ll burst under the pressure.” _These interviews are important,_ he wanted to say. _You can’t just absentmindedly be going around giving people ideas._ An internal pause. _Especially not me._

Suzaku, for his part, was touched by Lelouch’s sudden sentiment.

“I’m fine, Lelouch,” he said, tilting his head. His face was as soft as Lelouch’s voice, and when they finally made eye contact, Lelouch caught a little glimmer in Suzaku’s eye—of what, he couldn’t tell. Thanks? Mischief? “We’ll do good today.”

Before Lelouch had time to respond, Milly came waltzing into the room, pecking Kallen on the cheek as she passed and leaving the girl to blush furiously and Gino to give an assenting grin to the two of them. 

“Alright, alright! It’s about time for us to go up there—I hear Mr. Ried has some fantastic games planned for you all!” Lelouch attempted to stem a groan from bubbling to his lips, but apparently failed. Suzaku elbowed him gently, his eyes glinting with that very same look. It was mischief, Lelouch decided.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s gonna be great.” 

Lelouch tried not to think about how that seemed more like a condemnation than a reassurance, and didn’t even react when C.C. poked his back repeatedly as they were led out into the white room where their interview would take place. This Diethard man seemed so smug, didn’t he? He grinned at them as he entered, and flipped that ridiculous strand of his hair in front of his face. Lelouch couldn’t ignore the appraising gaze he was sending his way. Disgusting. He suppressed a shudder. 

It all seemed to happen so fast: someone muttering a 3, 2, 1, and Milly scrambling out of the way where she could watch comfortably, her clipboard tucked under her arm and her assistant—Rivalz, was it?—meandering about the room and offering her water, soda, food, at various intervals, all of which were denied. It always seemed to create a daze for Lelouch, like the flash of a camera startling a fish in a tank. 

“Thank you to the group we have visiting today, The Black Knights!” Diethard announced, holding out his arms to display them proudly, like an award he was about to win. Various applause echoed around the studio, until Diethard created a fist with his hand, at which point it immediately stopped. An interesting effect—Lelouch wondered if he could pick up something like that for himself. Just clench a fist and have all of his group mates shush. What a nice fantasy that was. 

“We’ll start with a little game of ‘Would you rather?’ Questions have been provided by your lovely manager, and fans that submitted questions online before the show. You’ll get thirty seconds to answer the question, and then time to explain yourself, should you so choose.” Lelouch barely had time to process that Milly had known about this earlier than yesterday—and that fans had possibly known about it as early as she had. She kept them in the dark on purpose! They had limited internet use to begin with, not to mention when they hopped online it wasn’t like they were about to Google themselves and future appearances, figuring they knew the gist in any case—how could he have been so stupid? Lelouch made the mental note to Google himself in advance every time he so much as touched an Internet accessible device in the near future. 

“Alright, first question! Would you rather: lose your ability to sing or to dance?” 

Easy. Lelouch spoke first. “Dancing.”

“Singing,” Kallen blurted. 

“Dancing,” C.C. agreed. 

Suzaku, in last place, agreed with Kallen. “Singing, definitely.”

“That’s right, Lelouch,” Diethard cut in. “You were not a good dancer when your group first debuted, isn’t that right?” 

Lelouch smiled so delightfully that Suzaku could almost feel his ire radiating off of him. “Yes, exactly. All the dancing I have done is learned. So it wouldn’t be a problem to lose it, and learn again.”

“It isn’t his group,” C.C. said. “I’m the leader.”

Lelouch laughed, as if he was playfully combatting her and not wishing he was dead already. Anything to end this quickly. “You? I’m the leader—the leader and visual.”

“You wish,” Kallen said, “I’m the visual member.”

“Visual members don’t sweat as much as you do,” C.C. pouted. Kallen’s face turned pink. Alright. Time for Suzaku to butt in.

“I think Lelouch makes an excellent visual member,” he said, his voice upbeat and with that clueless, stupid tone he took. He tucked a piece of hair behind Lelouch’s ear as he said it. Lelouch froze, hoping his ears were not nearly as red as Kallen’s face, and that he had been so sufficiently covered in concealer that no one could see the color prickling his cheeks. 

“I’m more than just visuals,” he muttered, ignoring the jolt he got from feeling Suzaku's fingers in his hair. Not these kinds of distractions, please, and not now. He scooted away from him. 

Diethard merely grinned at them, a wicked look in his eye. “Right. Next question: would you rather go without showering for a month, or without washing your hair for a month?”

“Huh?” Kallen blurted. “You can wash your hair without showering?”

Suzaku nodded, seeming to be used to the idea. “Sure, like, you just put your head under the running water in the sink, like—” he imitated the motion, turning on a sink and leaning into the washbasin. “And then wash from there.”

“So complicated,” Kallen said. “I don’t like this question. One seems impossible without the other.”

“I would rather not shower. My hair needs its care,” C.C. told them. 

“I would rather not wash my hair,” Lelouch said. And that was that. 

“Moving on, yes,” Diethard continued. “Two more questions, then we will play our first game. This is from a netizen, who asks, ‘If you could have just one food every day, what would it be?’”

“Pizza,” C.C. said, without missing a beat. She might have even said it before Diethard had finished the question.

“She already eats that every day!” Kallen shouted. “That’s not fair.”

“Ramen, I think,” Suzaku said, looking more thoughtful than the question required. “There are lots of different kinds, so I don’t think I’d get bored.”

“But what about on a hot day?” Lelouch asked. “Hot noodles even on a hot day?”

Suzaku did not even blink. “Ramen is best on a hot day,” he said seriously. 

“Okay!” Diethard said, seeming to want them to hurry it up. Maybe they were already wasting precious show time. C.C. almost interjected that Lelouch and Kallen never got to answer, but Diethard didn’t give her the chance. 

“Your final question, from another online user. They ask, ‘Would Lelouch rather kiss Kallen, C.C., or Suzaku?’ And from the same user, they asked me to say, ‘Hi mom! I can’t believe I made it on the show!’” Diethard cleared his throat. “Thank you, online user.” 

Lelouch was stunned into silence. This wasn’t even a would you rather, it was a three-way question! C.C. could be seen smirking and playing with a strand of her hair, while Kallen was fully red by now, her hands clenched at her sides while she refused to look at anything but the floor. Only Suzaku seemed unfazed, reaching over to put his hand at the base of Lelouch’s neck, squeezing.

“That’s an easy question for you, right Lelouch? You just have to be honest.”

“S-Suzaku!” Lelouch gasped, furiously pushing the other boy away. 

“Is that your answer?” Diethard leaned in. “Suzaku?”

“N-no, I—”

“And it seems that’s all the time we have for this segment. Thank you everyone for your honest and compelling answers. Next we have a game for you!”

A relief, in a sense, for Lelouch, was that the game was foot wrestling, where they had to scoot around on a mat and try and wrestle each other with just the feet. Kallen had to ask to borrow a pair of pants from the studio (which, no doubt, would disappoint the fans, and, by the look on his face, Diethard) because her skirt was too short to play without exposing herself. They gave her a pair of baggy things that she had to tie with one of C.C.’s ponytails so that they wouldn’t fall off her waist. What Lelouch was most thankful for was that everyone was wearing socks. He didn’t think he would be able to get over his obvious disgust at touching bare feet with his own. 

Unfortunately, Lelouch was far from the most physically fit member. He was out within seconds, as all the members had gone for him, and he was not only wrestled, but C.C. managed to get in a kick. Once that was an option, Kallen let loose on him too, kicking him until he angrily snapped at Diethard, “This is enough, isn’t it?” 

Diethard, ever the show host, said, “Oh, look how mad he is!” and Lelouch could feel as a camera zoomed in on his face. Smile, right, smile, he thought, though he was clearly winded by the exercise. 

It wound up as a battle between Kallen and Suzaku, who fought bitterly until the very end. C.C. leaned over to put her head on Lelouch’s shoulder. 

“We aren’t meant for this sort of game,” she sighed. 

“If it were a game of wits,” Lelouch said, “we would be better off.” 

Kallen’s yell of victory startled Lelouch and he visibly jumped, sure the cameras had caught that as well. Suzaku sighed, shaking his head in defeat. 

“She won fair and square,” he admitted. Lelouch was unsure what ‘fair and square’ meant in foot wrestling. 

The studio then had them best each other at speed checkers—Lelouch bitterly wanted to know how speed checkers made more sense than speed chess. Maybe more understandable for the audience? Disappointing. He expected more of his fans—and then bob for little hard candies that were buried under a plate of jello. The one who got the most got to eat the leftovers. What kind of victory was that? C.C. ended up winning, and ate a carton of green jello, the spoon stuck out of her mouth like a long white tongue for the rest of the show. 

And then, finally, closing interviews. Lelouch was relieved so long as they didn’t make him play that ridiculous paper-sucking game that was popular in all-boy groups right now, where everyone had to feign kissing in order to suck and blow a paper around the circle. There was no good way for that to end, at least not for him. 

“So,” Diethard said, adjusting himself and shuffling a little clip of notecards around in his hands. “We’ve had quite an adventurous day here, wouldn’t you all say?”

“Mmmhmm,” C.C. intoned around her spoon. Kallen gave a thumbs up. 

“We just have a few final questions, provided by recent interviews and about your tour. You’re promoting your song right now, correct?” 

“Yes!” Kallen agreed, stepping up as their spokesperson. It was always better to have someone cheery to do these sorts of promotions, and Lelouch was not sure whether he could muster up the energy for that display just now. Kallen, at least, was okay. “It’s called White Knight, and the B-side is Black Queen. The two songs are really contrasting, but we think they portray us as a group very well. We hope you enjoy!” As it was only their second comeback, having two songs that reflected the group’s name was okay. They were still making the theme of their group apparent, showing fans what to expect and who they were. The usual. The group waved together at the camera. It was simply a run of the mill closing interview, yes? And then they could go—?

“Right, well! We did have a few questions about recently released information. Suzaku,” – the boy jerked his head up, from where he had been staring at the camera— “You have a special relationship with the leader of your fan club, correct? Euphemia, is it?” 

Suzaku blushed. “Euphy, yes. We were very close.”

“Were?” Diethard asked. “Do I sense a recent change?”

“We aren’t on speaking terms anymore,” Suzaku said. His voice had gone quiet. 

It was news to Lelouch. Last he’d checked, Suzaku had been getting dangerously close to the girl, even pecking her on the cheek before leaving their last fan meet-up. It all seemed to be going so well—and Suzaku was always on his phone—

“Is there a reason for that? Did you two break up?”

“We were never dating, sir. No reason in particular.” Suzaku had gone cold and curt, a side Lelouch was unused to seeing. He hadn’t seen this look since Suzaku had expressed such a disdain for his father, one night after they snuck out together as children. It was a disdain Lelouch could relate to more than he could tell Suzaku at the time, and most definitely more than he could tell Suzaku now. 

“Right,” Diethard said, sensing the awkward atmosphere he’d created. “Well, that’s our show! We hope everyone enjoyed; have a nice evening!” 

“We hope you enjoy!” Kallen said, elbowing C.C. to get her to wave alongside her. Lelouch put up a half-hearted hand, but he was distracted by the glare in Suzaku’s eyes, his face all tight and shut-off. As soon the cameras were most definitely off, Suzaku got up and stormed out. Kallen and C.C. looked on for a minute before turning to each other to talk about the games. Lelouch stared after him. Should he follow? Or maybe it would be best to just give Suzaku his space.

///

In the end, Lelouch decided to leave Suzaku be. It would be what he would have wanted for himself. Suzaku, if no one else, deserved the golden rule of treating others as one would want to be treated. Lelouch could not think of many others who deserved the favor. But then, there weren’t many others he could think of wanting to offer it to.

That evening, Milly stopped by with a box of pizza for them. C.C. turned on the T.V., running through the channels until she found a station playing a reality show for a group she liked. (Pür, featuring Villetta Nu, Kaname Ohgi, and Jeremiah Gottwald.) It was rather boring, as they all seemed so serious. Lelouch couldn’t imagine how they’d gotten thrown together as a group. Didn’t you need varying personalities for it to work?

Suzaku had yet to come out of his room, but when Milly knocked and sang, “Peet-zaah!” at his door, he cracked it open. 

“Thank you,” he said coolly. “A word, Milly?”

For once, their manager was quiet. She nodded and set down the box on the counter on her way out the door with him. C.C. stood up and took two more slices. 

Kallen and Lelouch stayed on the couch a moment, Kallen chewing loudly next to him as he contemplated whether or not to eavesdrop. For one, it would be rude, and he had just proclaimed to himself how Suzaku deserved the golden rule. On the other hand, he really wanted to know what was going on. 

In fact, that side won rather quickly. He put down his plate and expressed that he needed fresh air, vaguely, to the other two, though he doubted they cared much at all. Kallen was too invested in the food, and C.C., having stuffed her face thoroughly, was lazing about on the couch and hugging Cheese-kun as she watched her show. Lelouch didn’t miss the knowing little smirk on her lips as he left.

By the back door to the building, Lelouch stopped. It seemed like they hadn’t gone far to talk at all, their voices were so loud. In fact, it seemed like they were _right there._

“You did that on purpose, Milly! You couldn’t get information out of me yourself, so you put it out to the world!”

“How else was I supposed to get around fan club meet-ups if my main link went cold? Just because you and that girl aren’t sneaking kisses anymore doesn’t mean that we have to stop treating our fans well!”

“There was another way, Milly. There’s always another way.”

Well, that was enough. It just depressed him, thoroughly, making him feel colder than the autumn air. It was painful to be reminded how very little control they had as idols. Lelouch was about to head back upstairs when Suzaku ducked inside, nearly running into him in the process. He heard the van start up outside. 

Suzaku took a breeze in with him, and Lelouch pulled his sweater around himself. 

“Lelouch?” Suzaku asked, looking him over. His voice had changed drastically from the hard tone had just been using with Milly. “What are you doing here?”

“Fresh air,” Lelouch supplied. “But then—you two were out there, so, I—”

“Eavesdropped,” Suzaku filled in for him, his mouth falling into a thin line. “Right.” 

Lelouch couldn’t even pretend like it wasn’t the original plan. Feigning ignorance would make him look like a bigger idiot than he already felt like, and it would be admitting a thorough defeat. 

“Yes,” he said coolly, as if he had planned to tell this to Suzaku. Then, moving on to a new methodology, “I’m sorry about what happened with Euphemia. She seemed like a sweet person.”

“You never liked the idea of it, anyway,” Suzaku said. Lelouch supposed he had been rather loudmouthed about his disapproval. 

“You’re right.” They looked at each other for a moment.

Lelouch wondered if Suzaku could feel the way he was pulling at him without moving, somehow, like a magnet, making Lelouch step closer. Suzaku’s expression had changed, at some point, from the cold face to a curious one, challenging Lelouch as he spoke, eager to respond. Lelouch liked that about Suzaku. He could always argue—though he was much too willing to give in. He needed more of a backbone, the ability to stand up for himself in the face of adversity, and not just fall in line. 

“Lelouch, about the show today, I—”

“What are you two doing down here? _Idols in the Jungle Series 2_ is on.” Kallen stood at the top of the steps in her slippers and PJs, looking down at them.

Suzaku grinned up at her, and Lelouch felt his stomach turn. So now, what, it was all gone? Suzaku couldn’t even let himself mope? Lelouch remembered Suzaku fiddling with his phone in his lap that morning. He wondered where it was now, if he had checked it recently. He wondered what had even happened. 

“I do like that one!” Suzaku agreed, bolting up the stairs. He grabbed Lelouch’s hand as he passed, pulling the other boy up the steps and into the apartment. He collapsed on the couch next to C.C., and Lelouch dropped down next to him. He tried not to think about the way Suzaku instinctively put his arm around Lelouch, hand on his shoulder, pulling him in. Kallen, still confused, trudged in after them, pulled a blanket out of the closet, and covered the four of them in it as they settled in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when you've been planning this scenario for months and yet still can't think of a group name <:l
> 
> hope you enjoy!


	3. final stage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> uhh im sorry

In the following days, Lelouch could not help but wonder what he should’ve said to Suzaku. Had he said the right things, or perhaps there was nothing to be done differently at all. The week of promotions was always stressful and difficult, so though he stood outside of Suzaku’s door some nights before bed, contemplating going in, he always let tiredness and vacillation direct him otherwise. Even trying to close his eyes to sleep, he thought of Suzaku and Euphemia, how Milly had said that he wasn’t stealing kisses anymore, as if there had been more than one. He pictured Suzaku kissing her, her neck, her lips, how excited he would be to have someone to touch and hold in his arms. His smile and his eyes wandering upward to hers as he shifted his head to kiss down into the dip between her breasts – 

And Suzaku’s teasing had not ceased. When they went on the big music shows, he’d put his arm around Lelouch after they were finished performing, or when they had won their first award, he snuck one hand around the small of Lelouch’s back, and stroked his side with one finger, not withdrawing until he gave Lelouch a squeeze. Lelouch tried not to jump in the stage lights, and tried to ignore his urge to drift closer to Suzaku, silently asking him to bring him closer— and while Lelouch could’ve attributed it to Suzaku’s excitement about their win, that prediction was thrown off when Suzaku leaned in and Lelouch could feel his breath hot against his ear as he whispered, “It’s all thanks to you.”

It wasn’t fair—they didn’t need this much excessive attention, this many views. He could stop with the show. Half the time, standing outside Suzaku’s room, Lelouch would morph from apologetic to angry, thinking, he doesn’t deserve my words of condolence—he’s been playing with me this whole time! How sad can he be, if he does that? It struck him for a moment that Suzaku might be even more cunning than him, putting on a show about losing Euphemia, playing with Lelouch—maybe he was weaving his own narrative for the fans. But then, seeing how cheerfully clueless Suzaku was the subsequent mornings made Lelouch think he was just a delightful idiot. He had no way to be malicious, not with that smile, his eyes earnestly confused and trained on Lelouch’s face, even when Lelouch would not look his way. Suzaku couldn’t be so depraved as to twine such a tale, and not tell anyone about it. Those lovely green eyes denied such a travesty. And when Lelouch and C.C. made to bait the fans, it was a plan, a scheme, and the two of them made up a much more vicious duo than Lelouch could ever imagine of Suzaku. 

He found the idea of it so very funny, that anyone could find C.C. and himself romantic in any sense. She was like both a child and a mother at the same time, holding him up but with the ability to give him a migraine with a snap of her fingers. Still, when he got a particularly disconcerting call from his father, it was her he would go to, and sit in her room while she played some game of cards on the floor by herself. The two of them did not need to talk; she knew everything, and she always had. She knew how his father had put him up to this because, “The Britannia family is always in the public eye, but we will fade if you children do not keep us here, and Nunnally is the charming one, so I am thinking about putting her up to audition for being an idol,” and the only way Lelouch could stop Nunnally from falling under this ridiculous farce at a life was if he did it in her place. All the same to his father. Knowing the nature of idol life, C.C. had also stepped in, saying it did not matter to her, so long as she could keep an eye on Lelouch. His shield, protecting him from the brunt of insanity under these conditions. 

Nunnally would not be able to take it all, the publicity, the practice, the long hours. He had heard of other idols needing I.V.s during their first week of promotions because of the sheer stress of it. Indeed, the lot of them were missing quite a bit of sleep, and often went long hours between meals. It had been nonstop, pre-recording for shows, then recording for shows during the daytime, multiple performances for small groups of fans, fan-signings, interviews…  
And so maybe it was his lack of sleep that put Lelouch in such a spot. 

It wasn’t Suzaku’s fault, not really. Coming from his room and into the kitchen one evening, Lelouch had nearly tripped, spilling his water over the front of Suzaku’s shirt. (Suzaku, standing in the doorway, regardless of the dousing to his front, was quick to react. He always had had better reflexes than Lelouch.) Suzaku caught the cup in his palm in one fluid motion before it had a chance to topple to the floor, and put his other hand on the flat of Lelouch’s chest to keep him from falling forward. Setting the glass aside on an open surface, Suzaku did not at once remove his hand, but rather spread it open, and moved it up to Lelouch’s shoulder. At first, Lelouch’s mind was more on what on earth he had tripped over in their barren apartment. But then he felt Suzaku’s hand, and Suzaku was using his other one to wrap around Lelouch’s wrist and tug him just a bit closer.

“Lelouch,” Suzaku said. He sounded… what was the word? His voice was deep, and a heat Lelouch had been attempting to deprive himself of once again blossomed in his belly. 

They stood, frozen like that, for a moment. Suzaku’s lips looked so very soft, not womanly, exactly, and Lelouch knew his tongue to be scathing at times and therefore it must be rough between those gentle lips, and… and then Suzaku was leaning in, like he was going to—

“What do you think you are doing?” Lelouch gasped, all at once pulling away. He had been so close to being tempted—he was not only angry, but rather furious. “Why are you doing this to me?” For a moment it seemed like Suzaku would attempt to pull him back with the hold he had around his wrist, but, with a frown, decided better of it, and let Lelouch go. 

As he was halfway down the hall, Lelouch heard Suzaku let out a breath it seemed he had been holding for quite some time. 

Back in his room, he realized he had not meant to snap. He had meant to—to explain rationally to Suzaku that these touches, these situations needed to stop. There were no fans at home; they weren’t doing a live-in reality T.V. show like C.C. loved so much. There was no need—absolutely no need—to keep it up _here_. This was the one place where there was no need for any acting. Lelouch found himself only slightly breathless there on the bed, staring the door down furiously, daring Suzaku to come in. 

His anger gave way, rather quickly, to exhaustion, and when he slept that evening he dreamt of Suzaku’s lips on his body, moving from his neck to his chest, down his stomach, and then those fantastic green eyes peering up at him from between his legs. He woke up to sticky sheets, and was for once the first one in the shower. 

///

It was two months after this that the end of the year filming and performances were to begin. 

It was popular for a big music show to take place at the end of the season, where every artist who had a comeback in the past year would perform on one stage over several hours. It wasn’t the yearly awards show, but rather a final performance to end out the season right. Lelouch did not particularly enjoy these events, as most of the time he was forced to sit with the rest of the artists that were not performing at the moment and watch. Some of the other groups had fun, dancing and singing to the other songs. They’d all been hearing them on repeat anyway, since the start of the season, and it was good to keep up with what the other concepts were. Kallen even lit up sometimes at songs she recognized, doing the choreography in her seat. Suzaku was one to do that as well, and when cameras caught him dancing in his chair, he waved and danced more fervently, flashing that captivating little grin. Did he even know how desirable he was, Lelouch wondered. Suzaku was charming to the fans in a way that Lelouch could not be—he was excitable and relatable, more human than most, where Lelouch was reserved and gentlemanly, a fantasy for the fans and nothing more. But Suzaku’s smiles charmed. Lelouch felt it too, the way that seeing Suzaku’s face brighten could make someone’s heart tighten. But he was not one of their young fans. He had no need to feel that way about Suzaku’s smiles. 

As well as showcasing them alongside other artists, this final performance of the year also managed to be a good way to show glimpses into the group’s personal dynamic, and gauge how they reacted to others in the business. It would be no good to seem haughty and uninterested, so Lelouch had to put on a good face, muttering with C.C. through it all, preoccupying himself with people-watching… and, to a degree, Suzaku-watching. Lelouch hoped that the cameras would not catch him speaking so the fans could not stay up nights attempting to read his lips, only to find him leaning over to C.C. and saying something like, “If I hear one more song about love, I am going to die.”

“Our songs aren’t about love, Lelouch?” C.C. asked. “The white knight that wakes each night to watch the moon rise?” 

“No, that is about a superhero who rises in the evenings to patrol the streets for crime. He is attempting to defeat injustices, to help the world.”

C.C. laughed. “We have such different understandings. I always thought it was about being in love with the moon, and trying to protect her from the evils on earth.”

“Yes, she mustn’t view the evils of earth,” Lelouch agreed, giving in. C.C. was too intuitive for her own good. The song was about Nunnally, about shielding her from seeing all that could happen—would happen—should she not have a protector. Lelouch shut his eyes, remembering the night he wrote the song, the night his father had called to say that though his sales were doing well, he was tired of seeing that boy from the cabin so long ago on stage beside Lelouch. He should start thinking about being a soloist, Charles said, to gain more attention and notoriety. Unfortunately, solo artists did not do well in the industry. The fans thrived more off the groups than the ingenuity of the music. 

One of the slower songs of the season had come on, the girls performing it wearing sequined dresses with taffeta skirts over the bottoms. The costumes these designers came up with— _hideous_. He couldn't help but squirm in his own tacky ensemble, the tight jeans and low-cut shirt their designer always insisted upon seeing him in. Though watching the sequins bounce light off the stage and throw it into the audience was somewhat pretty—Lelouch turned and looked at the specks of light dotting Suzaku’s heavily focused face. He’d been quiet for some time now, enjoying the banter of the stage, but he must’ve felt Lelouch’s gaze on him, as he looked over and smiled. Frowning, Lelouch turned away. 

“Hey,” Suzaku said, as the song went on, the girl’s voices rising and falling in the stadium air. “Why won’t you look at me recently?” Suzaku’s arm crept around Lelouch’s shoulder, and his palm fell open on the other side of his head, fingers moving to stroke Lelouch’s chest.

“I don’t need to look at you,” he said bitterly. Suzaku, Lelouch rationalized, should just have assumed Lelouch was upset that he had—had what? There was no proof that Suzaku had been trying to kiss him. It could’ve just been a misread signal. And Lelouch had been so tired then, both jittery and ornery, going through the events of the previous days in his head so much that they were nearly all he could think about, save for the intermittent calls from his father—and sometimes, from Nunnally. 

“We’re in a group,” Suzaku whispered. “We all need to look at each other. We’re together almost twenty four hours a day.”

It wasn’t untrue—they had parts together, lines together, dances together. And even on stage, while Suzaku and Lelouch had danced their part, Lelouch had been averting his eyes. Certain news sources had picked up on subtle frowns during performances from Suzaku as he noticed this, but the nature of the business insisted that he pick up right on smiling, so as not to throw the stage energy off. Fans would not want to watch downtrodden stars. It was a fantasy, and part of that fantasy was that everyone, always, was happy. 

“We’ve survived thus far,” Lelouch spat. He resisted the urge to fold his arms, and instead kept his back pressed firmly against the seat. Suzaku’s hand moved to grasp at Lelouch’s shoulder, perhaps holding him in place. 

“That doesn’t mean we’ve been happy,” Suzaku bit back. His grip tightened as his tone went dark. This was the Suzaku that Lelouch remembered from childhood—angry and willing to spar. If they weren’t glued to their chairs, Lelouch wouldn’t doubt that Suzaku would face him down, push him around, incite some version of physical fear in him. He’d never shied away from it when they were children. Now, he’d become softer, much more difficult to provoke. Seeing this old, familiar Suzaku sent a thrill down Lelouch’s spine. 

“Happy enough,” Lelouch said. 

“ _No._ ” Oh—there was that tone again, the deep voice Suzaku used that made Lelouch shiver. It didn’t help that Lelouch hadn’t for a second stopped feeling the weight of Suzaku’s arm on his shoulders. “Not ‘ _happy enough._ ’ You’re my best friend, Lelouch, and you won’t even look at me.”

It was like Suzaku wanted Lelouch to yell at him here, on public camera, for everyone to see. It was getting hard to suppress his scowl.

“I’m tired of you playing games with me, Suzaku,” Lelouch growled. “You can’t go on public television and poke and prod me like that—and—and do it at home as well, and expect me not to make anything of it. It’s _cruel,_ Suzaku. You’ve been incredibly cruel.”

“Is that what you think?” Suzaku’s face displayed genuine shock. “That’s not—” and then Suzaku was moving his hand from behind Lelouch’s shoulders, tugging at Lelouch’s hand with his own. “Come on, Lelouch, we’re going somewhere else.”

“Suzaku!” Lelouch whispered urgently. “We can’t just leave in the middle of the show.” Not only would the news catch it and find them behaving oddly, but he also didn’t want to be written off by fans as disrespectful. 

Suzaku was already making to stand up, and leaned in close to Lelouch as he yanked on his hand. “Well, we’re doing it.” He sounded so very direct and sure. “We’re not going to leave this for another time, and leave you thinking _that._ ” He set his mouth in a line. “I’m not just going to let this get brushed over.” And Lelouch could not deny the lovely little twist in his stomach that this firm, assured Suzaku gave him. 

If he protested much more, all the audience cameras would be trained on them, and they’d never get the chance to make a stealthy escape. Analyzing his options, Lelouch found his only route was to follow Suzaku. He rose from his seat, C.C. giving him a confused, but still rather cunning, grin, as he was rushed off. Suzaku apologized to Kallen and briefly said they needed the restroom and then the two of them were off down the aisles, Suzaku ripping Lelouch along at such a pace that Lelouch’s perfectly styled and gelled hair was rearranged in the breeze they created. 

They couldn’t go outside the building; fans were outside, and would have camera phones and such open and ready to film should anyone step out. Suzaku pulled Lelouch along until he ended up in one of the unused dressing rooms that were throughout the building and unattached to the stage. He pulled Lelouch in and quickly locked the door. 

Lelouch was, fittingly, shocked. Was Suzaku _deranged_? _What_ in the entire universe would have him think this was a good idea?

“This whole time,” Suzaku said, now swiveling to face him in the doorway, not bothering to give Lelouch’s obvious disbelief a second thought, “you’ve thought that I’ve been messing with you? Teasing you? What?”

“That’s exactly what I’ve thought! You haven’t exactly given me a reason to believe otherwise.” Suzaku was, for all Lelouch knew, interested in _women._ Specifically, one woman, with flowing pink hair and a soft smile. 

“Ignoring the fact that you think I’d be mean enough to do that,” Suzaku began, coming closer. Lelouch had to stumble a step back to avoid coming face to face. “Which does hurt, by the way, Lelouch. Why do you think I wouldn’t be doing those things because I _actually_ like you?”

Lelouch scoffed. “We work in show business. Something like that would never work.” 

“It’s not something the world has to know, exactly,” Suzaku said. 

“If the way you’ve been handling me on stage is any indication, the world would find out, in any situation. You weren’t exactly covert with your relationship with Euphemia. Which _also_ wasn’t appropriate, by the way.”

“Euphie and I were never in a relationship,” Suzaku snapped. “We liked each other, but it was a mutual decision that we shouldn’t see each other. Besides, I had someone else, and she knew that.”

“Someone else?” Lelouch asked. He felt a blush rise in his cheeks.

“My god, Lelouch, are you sure _you’re_ not daft?” Suzaku shook his head. “The whole time, Lelouch. It wasn’t a game or a ruse, and it wasn’t to get the fans excited. That was a nice bonus, but it was never for anyone else. It was always because I couldn’t keep my hands off of you. It’s always been because I’ve wanted _you_.”

Suzaku was too close now, so close that Lelouch could feel the heat coming off him in waves. Lelouch looked up, slowly, meeting Suzaku’s gaze. It was too intense, too hot, the look in Suzaku’s eyes burning through his body. The flush crept down Lelouch’s neck. 

“Oh,” Lelouch said. He didn’t like sounding meek. 

“So?” Suzaku asked. He had, after all, just bared everything here for Lelouch. And now the other boy just stood staring at him, like he was absurd, but with that little glint in his eye, that undeniable glisten of lust. Suzaku refrained from leaning down to kiss him just yet. He would need the go-ahead. The last thing he wanted was for Lelouch to think this was just another game.

“You’ve… wanted me.” Lelouch seemed to be regaining control. “I see. Then,” and then he got this sure look in his eye, one Suzaku had not seen in quite some time. “Then tell me. So I know you are not lying.”

“Tell you?”

“How you’ve wanted me, of course,” Lelouch said. Back in control, like he’d never been that confused little mouse of a moment ago. He made his way to the lone couch in the dressing room, now regal and controlled in his fitted stage costume, dropping down and folding his legs neatly, looking over at where Suzaku still stood. Suzaku had no idea when the situation had so fully flipped so that Lelouch was now in charge. Although a glance at Lelouch proved that the boy was still blushing—he could not tamp that down quite all the way—the pink tinge now creeping full down the deep collar of his shirt, out of Suzaku’s vision. So even if he acted the prince he still had some idea of propriety, an unshakable sense of innocence he would fiercely deny should Suzaku ever mention it. 

“I’m not as good with words, Lelouch,” Suzaku said sheepishly. “Writing songs has always been your specialty. I’m just the dancer.” Even so he felt the pull; he moved forward, settling onto the couch beside his friend.

It seemed something had unlocked in Lelouch, unhinged now that he knew the truth. His gaze roved Suzaku’s body, appraising.

“Dancer you are,” he said. Suzaku supposed that was the final go-ahead he would get; Lelouch was never one to give in first. And so he closed that final distance, and pressed their lips together.

At first, Lelouch seemed unaware of what was happening, and then his lips opened on a sigh and Suzaku licked eagerly inside his mouth, shoving Lelouch back against the couch and causing him to moan. 

Soon enough, he pulled away, his breath coming quickly as he let his head fall to the side so that he could feel Lelouch’s breath on his chin as the other boy tilted his head to look at him. They found each other’s eyes. Lelouch was blinking as if trying to remember where he was. 

“Do you believe me now?” Suzaku asked, letting his head drift ever closer to Lelouch, their noses brushing. 

“I think I do,” Lelouch breathed. They kissed again, Lelouch’s fingers flying up to tangle in Suzaku’s hair, pulling and searching for any sort of purchase as he kissed Suzaku back in such a way that proved his inexperience—wildly, without a sense of control, just looking to get more of Suzaku, quickly, as if he had been thirsty all his life and had just had his first taste of water. Suzaku couldn’t help it, his hands sliding down to Lelouch’s hips, kneading the skin there. 

“Like this, Lelouch,” Suzaku said, leaning back against the couch and guiding Lelouch to straddle his hips before returning their lips to each other’s. From this easy angle, Suzaku could move to let Lelouch breathe by sliding down his neck, his lips finding the sensitive skin at the crook of it and making Lelouch moan as he sucked a barely-visible mark. Best something that would heal quickly, so as not to give fans any extravagant ideas, however true they may be. Lelouch shifted, one hand fisted in Suzaku’s shirt, one hand in his hair, and the friction was, at once, so very good. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Lelouch keened, squeezing his eyes shut. Suzaku’s hands flew to Lelouch’s sides, guiding him to repeat himself, before holding him still.

“Lelouch,” Suzaku said. He struggled to focus his eyes again. “You said to tell you how I’ve wanted you.” 

Lelouch blinked as if trying to recall the memory. Attempting to conceal the heaviness of his breathing, he said, “I did.” 

“I think—I want to see you,” Suzaku said. He looked at Lelouch for approval, and when Lelouch licked his lips and nodded dazedly, Suzaku made quick work at tugging Lelouch’s fitted shirt over his shoulders, tousling his hair as he did it, and throwing it aside. 

Lelouch was so very pale and thin, wasn’t he, and yet Suzaku could not control himself from wanting to feel his hands on the hot skin he found, the redness of Lelouch’s blush so prettily contrasted to the paleness of his skin. It was a combination Suzaku found so entirely inviting that he found himself leaning down to kiss it, wondering to himself absently if the strawberries-and-cream complexion would taste as delicious as it looked. He let his lips roam, and delighted in the string of little gasps and moans Lelouch was releasing. His hands found their way back into Suzaku’s hair, where they tightened and pulled just a little, pain enough to make Suzaku grunt and lift his hips to grind into Lelouch’s once more. 

“Oh!” And then Lelouch’s hands were on Suzaku’s chest, roving and anxious for more, as his hips seemed to stutter without his control and—for a brief moment in their excitement, he saw Lelouch’s eyes sharpen as he suddenly shoved Suzaku back into the couch. 

“Not quite,” he snapped, but it lost any viciousness in deliverance by the way Lelouch gasped it out. He lifted Suzaku’s shirt and pushed it aside, immediately going to touch what he found. “I’m tired of admiring you from afar, Suzaku Kururugi.” Lelouch touched rather than kissed, his hands caressing every inch of Suzaku’s torso he could reach, stroking down Suzaku’s abdomen rather approvingly, finding Suzaku’s eyes and meeting them with his sparkling own. “I’ve had enough of your teasing.”

Suzaku was about to correct that it had never been teasing once more when Lelouch’s hand dipped into the waistline of Suzaku’s pants and palmed Suzaku’s hard cock there inside, skin on skin, then fisting his hand to tug at the hot flesh. Suzaku could suppress his moans no longer, and hoped for everyone’s sake that no camera man had come roving the halls after them, for surely they would be discovered, their careers ruined, their—oh, and it did feel good, Lelouch’s thin and delicate hands handling him so roughly, his hips lurching up to meet each thrust of his palm, until Lelouch leaned down and whispered into Suzaku’s ear, “I order you to come for me, Suzaku,” and Suzaku’s vision went blank and he was sure he moaned out Lelouch’s name as he exploded over Lelouch’s hand. When he began to regain his senses, finding Lelouch watching him with blown pupils and lips red and slicked from his own, he could not help from kissing him again, and then nuzzling up against the side of Lelouch’s face.

“I want to keep you here alone forever, I think,” Suzaku said, kissing up the side of Lelouch’s jaw. Lelouch frowned.

“That would be unwise,” he said. He made to stand up. “We should be getting back,” he began, but Suzaku grabbed his wrist. 

“Oh, no you don’t—” he pressed Lelouch back into the couch. He had waited too long for this to be over already—and besides, they were already breaking protocol, already in trouble, so what was just a while longer? Suzaku dropped to his knees in front of the couch, and Lelouch, curious and once more excited, scooted forward to look inquiringly down at Suzaku. Perfect. Suzaku moved to tug off Lelouch’s pants, looking up at him for assistance. Any reluctance Lelouch had originally had dissipated as he lifted his hips and Suzaku pushed both the pants and those tight little black briefs down around his ankles. And Suzaku could not help but delight in the wide eyed look Lelouch was now giving him, his cock again half-hard there in Suzaku’s hand. Suzaku at once dipped his head down and did not waste time in licking Lelouch until he was once again erect. 

Something about the heavy, clean taste of Lelouch was both wonderful and obscene as Suzaku licked him, moving from tonguing at his tip to sliding down until he could feel the press at the back of his throat. He had not expected to like this so very much. And Lelouch above him was battling with himself, the desire to watch Suzaku lavish his cock with his tongue quickly outweighing the urge to throw his head back and lose himself in the pleasure. But he could not stop the steady stream of noises as they leaked from between his lips, and, still cognizant of the fact that the hallways outside their room would not always be empty, he pressed his hand over his mouth to stifle them. 

The steady bob of Suzaku’s head between his legs was heavenly, and the most exquisite alignment of fantasy and reality for Lelouch, who, admittedly, had pictured the sight on multiple occasions, often with his hand between his legs, pumping away at his length as he tried to prevent Suzaku’s name from spilling from his lips as he came. He could not help himself now from letting his head fall back, his hand moving from his mouth to grip Suzaku’s hair—he was careful not to push, but rather hold Suzaku there as his hips stuttered, seeking more pleasure, more delicious heat from Suzaku’s mouth—he heard Suzaku moan around his cock just briefly before he came, Suzaku pulling away quickly enough for Lelouch to splatter over Suzaku’s lips and face, the prettiest picture Lelouch had ever seen, and when he recovered himself from his orgasm, pupils still blown and chest heaving, he found himself wishing he had brought his camera phone so that he could take a picture of Suzaku looking just like this, licking his lips and cleaning them of the white fluid.

God, to stay alone here forever, is that what Suzaku had said? It seemed so perfect, so precious. To never have to speak to anyone else again, to never have to put on any show. Lelouch closed his eyes as Suzaku lifted himself up to the couch again, pressing a kiss to the side of Lelouch’s jaw. 

“I made a mess of you,” Lelouch whispered to him. He eyed Suzaku lazily, still shirtless, and saw the firm outline against those tight pants of Suzaku’s cock once again straining against the fabric. “And you’re hard again.”

“Hmmm…” Suzaku mumbled. He was grinning again, that grin that had Lelouch’s stomach turning loops from deep inside, and whispered back, “Later.” Lelouch nodded dazedly. 

No, no. He couldn’t lose himself in this delicious dream again. Time to straighten up. They’d been gone much too long. They were going to be found out. Lelouch was up first, not for lack of tiredness but rather the desire to get back to where they were supposed to be, and he tugged up his trousers and began to search for their shirts and, if he was lucky, maybe a towel for Suzaku’s beautiful face. He scanned Suzaku’s body, his eyes lingering over the faint stain on the front of the black pants he wore. 

“I should get Milly,” he said. “She’ll know where to get a pair of pants for you.”

Suzaku refrained from insisting Milly not know. The woman could intuit such a varied field of things, it was likely she’d figure out anyway. “It’s okay. I can go out like this.”

Lelouch raised an eyebrow. “I should hope not,” he said, and picking up a stray towel, handed it to his friend. Suzaku grinned sheepishly. Right. 

“The fans do notice everything,” Lelouch went on. “I don’t want to risk it.”

“It’s okay,” Suzaku insisted. “We should just get back. The show’s almost over.”

Lelouch frowned, calculating and serious once again. “I’ll ask Milly to get you a change of pants before any photographs are taken outside,” he said. “Let’s get back.”

///

They sat around the kotatsu that evening feasting on the special end-of-the-year gift Milly had for them: steaming hot pizza with mini pigs in a blanket for the crust. 

Halfway through the meal, Kallen cleared her throat.

“I have to ask,” she admitted. “During the show. Where did you two go?”

Lelouch choked on his bite, and color rose to Suzaku’s cheeks. C.C. leaned over and whispered something in Kallen’s ear, her cupped hands hiding the smirk on her lips. 

“O-oh!” Kallen flushed for the both of them, a deep maroon that matched her hair. She did not look at them for the rest of the meal.

After dinner, Suzaku coaxed Lelouch into his bedroom, and the two were snuggled up close when Milly burst back into the house, shouting so that everyone could hear:

“It’s excellent news!” 

The lot of them traipsed into the living room where they could hear her. 

“I’ve signed you all on for a reality T.V. show special, taking place right here in the apartment!” She grinned in a way Lelouch knew all too well. “You can expect the camera crew to arrive next week!”

Lelouch could not stifle his groan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's it! hope you enjoyed. it was my first time writing for code geass so i hope it was not too offensively bad.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! so, this is my first geass fic, so i have absolutely no clue what the hell i'm doing. i am always open to suggestions or help editing in any way... um, expect more to come!


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